A Preference for Purity
by ladida123
Summary: Marcus Flint looked at her. Antonin Dolohov claimed he knew her. Well, whoever she was, Flint had only one thing on his mind. How to get her.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: The characters are JK Rowling's. Plot is for the most part mine. **

Sipping his drink quietly, Marcus Flint leaned back into his chair and began to casually inspect his fingernails for any imperfections, even though he knew there were none. They were immaculate. Well. Everything about him was immaculate for that matter. He was a clean man and despite the fact that he had the blood of hundreds of people on his hands, he made sure not a drop landed on him. It made him…uneasy. Blood, dirt, grime. He liked untainted things. Things that were spotless. Unadulterated. They made him feel….pure, even though he knew he himself was far from it. But the idea of his surrounding cleanliness made him content. Perhaps on a subconscious level, it made him feel less guilty. He didn't know. He didn't care. He just knew he liked things a certain way. Pristine and innocent.

After he was satisfied with his inspection, he downed the rest of his drink in one gulp and wiped the side of his mouth with a napkin. Clearing his throat, he looked down from his place on the balcony and watched the people in the room. More specifically, the women. There were easily a hundred women in the room. Short women, tall women. Pale, dark. Blondes, brunettes. So many to choose from. Reaching for another drink, Marcus smiled to himself as he took a sip. Lowering his gaze to their frames, he bit his lower lip. This narrowed them down considerably.

Settling his gaze on a tall redheaded girl who was showing considerable cleavage and an ample amount of leg, Marcus beckoned his guards. Cygnus and Falco immediately rushed up to him and followed his gaze until they were all staring in the same direction.

"Tied up red hair. Green dress." Looking at how much of his drink was left, Marcus nodded slowly. "Room 628. Fifteen minutes."

"Yes sir," Cygnus replied, already heading towards the door, with Falco on his heels.

They had a nice system. Marcus attended lavish affairs. He never mingled with the guests. He picked a girl. Cygnus and Falco would go down and confirm she was the one through a previously arranged wand signal. They would lure her out somehow and then…well. It differed from girl to girl. Sometimes a few loving words quieted her down. Sometimes force was necessary. Sometimes threats. But whoever she was, she never left without doing her part. Marcus made sure of that. Always.

Add half an hour of meaningless sex to all that and Marcus left the girl with varying gifts, depending on her willingness. The more difficult she was, the less. The more compliant, the more gifts. It was all a fair deal in Marcus' eyes. You yourself were responsible for what you earned. It was all quite simple really.

Considering the countless ruthless things Lord Voldemort did, Marcus thought he was quite generous and wonderful in comparison. Gone were the days when Voldemort used a simple _Avada Kedavra_ to kill off people. No, no. That no longer satisfied him. He saw that there were so many other ways to torture people. Even the _Crucio _no longer held the same satisfaction for Voldemort since it was so common. He wanted new ways; heinous ways that made even his cold blood curl. Not in fear of course but sheer excitement. Ironically, Muggle ways pleased Voldemort to no avail. His two new favorite spells included burning people alive and slicing random body parts off, watching the victim writhe in pain until death overcame them.

Marcus himself of course found it all distasteful and always resorted to _Avada Kedavra_. The rapidity of the spell usually left him feeling no particular emotion. But Merlin, when Voldemort had one of his own little parties, Marcus hated standing there watching some random person's tongue being sliced off with a hex, with blood spurting all over the place. It was quite disturbing to say the least. He usually ended up going home and bathing for about an hour, finally coming out only to drink and fall asleep. The following morning, he would pretend nothing of the sort had happened last night, and life went on as usual, until the same cycle began again a few weeks later. It was unsettling but there was no way around it.

Forgetting about Voldemort's parties, Marcus shifted his attention back to the one he was attending. As he was wondering what this particular redheaded woman would be like in terms of difficulty, Falco's red robes caught Marcus' eyes and he began to focus on the scene below him. His gaze slowly followed the path of Cygnus and Flaco, mentally leading the way. They had just about crossed half the room when Marcus suddenly stopped looking at them.

His gaze no longer followed his guards but they rested on a mind numbingly beautiful woman who was sitting alone at a table with her head slightly bowed down. Her eyes were lowered and she did not seem remotely interested in her whereabouts. His breath hitching in his throat, Marcus wondered how in hell he had missed her before. He licked his lips lustfully and unconsciously loosened his robes. He was suddenly feeling warm and strange. His eyes stared at her intensely as they made their way all over her body.

Her black hair shone brightly from her fair skin, which was as smooth as could be. Her milky complexion had Marcus suddenly longing to touch her face, her arms, her breasts, her thighs, her legs. Anything. Even her collarbone looked sensual for crying out loud. He imagined his lips on her neck, pulling her midnight blue dress down slowly with his teeth, revealing more and more of her porcelain skin. Touching each inch of her newly exposed skin with his fingers, his hands, his lips. Better yet was the idea of his lips on her lips. Lips which were the perfect shade of pink. Sensual, pink lips that now opened slightly so she could take a small sip from her glass. A moment later, her tongue flicked out for a brief second as she licked her bottom lip to absorb a drop of her drink that had landed there.

Taking another gulp from his glass, Marcus started to breathe heavily. He wanted her tonight. He could not even remember who he had pointed out earlier but whoever she was, she was nothing compared to the beauty in front of him. This picturesque perfection of a woman. What it would be like to have her writhing beneath him, pulling at his hair. He hated women that ever tried to show aggression with him, but with her, he could just imagine getting more and more turned on with each display of it. He could just imagine her soft hands reaching for---

"Bloody gorgeous, isn't she?"

Turning his head quickly to the side, Marcus made eye contact with Dolohov, who was also looking at the same woman. Marcus' grip tightened on his chair as he saw Dolohov's uncontrolled hungry look.

"Hm," Marcus grunted in seething anger, looking back at her.

"If her breasts are just as creamy as her face, I don't think I'd ever…."

Marcus was about to tell Dolohov to shut up as the woman was his prey tonight when Dolohov stopped talking himself. Marcus looked up at him, who looked very confused all of a sudden. "What?"

Dolohov squinted his eyes and shook his head. "She looks…familiar. I've seen her somewhere."

Marcus' grip tightened even more on his chair as he asked his next question. "You've slept with her before?"

Dolohov turned his head towards Marcus and cackled. "If I did, don't you think I'd remember? She's obviously not the kind of woman you'd forget having sex with." Looking back again at her, he shook his head. "No. But she does look familiar."

Thankful the oaf next to him had never touched the girl, Marcus decided to ignore Dolohov and his baseless remarks and instead focus on sending a signal to Cygnus and Flaco. Taking his wand out, he whispered _Ruber Summoner_. Flaco immediately saw his wand turn red and tapped Cygnus in front of him. Realizing Marcus wanted them to abort the mission and come back, they started making their way back to the end of the hall.

Marcus leaned back in his chair and once again stared at the personification of exquisite beauty in front of him. While Dolohov continued to make some lewd comments, Marcus suddenly wondered what the color of her eyes was. Green, blue, a piercing grey? Grinning to himself, he realized he would find out soon enough, as he imagined her arching against him, just as eager for contact with his skin as he was for hers.

With that celebratory thought in his head, he reached for another drink and smiled. "Cheers," he whispered to himself.

**A/N: How do you like it??? It's a different pairing but I think it's alright. Review please! Suggestions are always more than welcome! **


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: I am so thrilled to know you are enjoying this so far, I can not explain. And I promise. I will not leave this story midway. See 'shadowkid1313' you told me not to make it a one-shot, and the same day, I posted a second chapter! Lol. But thank you all (cullen's pet, EvenstarDreamer, cherryVanillaCoke16, cgirl0220, lovely gaby) for your reviews and I am glad you like the pairing. More importantly, I'm glad you all find the Marcus character to be believable. Please continue to review and suggestions are always more than welcome! **

"I want her," Marcus said to Cygnus, when he came back. "I want her up in the room as soon as possible." Looking down at the woman he wanted so badly, he added, "But one thing. If she protests or causes any trouble, don't even think about hurting her. I don't want to see a single bruise on her body…made by you two. You hear me?"

"Yes sir," Cygnus replied. Seeing that Marcus had no further instructions, he and Falco turned around once again to head down the stairs to the ballroom.

Unable to sit coolly now that the wheels of his plan were in motion, Marcus stood up and leaned on the balcony railing in front of him, continuing to look at the woman. She was now looking at the dance floor at another woman, somewhat timidly. As he wondered why she looked nervous, Dolohov came back to his side and interrupted his thoughts. "Are you sure you don't recognize her from somewhere?"

Exasperated, Marcus let out an annoyed sigh. "Obviously not Dolohov."

"Well, fine." After a few seconds pause, he said, "So Flint, after you're done with her, how about you send her…" Dolohov's voice quickly caught in his throat when he saw the threatening look in Marcus' eyes. "Possessive, are we?" he said with a nervous laugh, not quite sure how to respond to the glower.

Although Marcus was considerably younger than him, Dolohov was still sometimes frightened by him. He seemed fine for the most part but underneath his calm countenance, he always had that serious, hostile look to him. Hell, even his smiles were ominous.

This was all appropriate when they went hunting for Muggles and such but even around his fellow Death Eaters, Marcus maintained a fear-provoking disposition. Keeping Lord Voldemort in mind, Marcus may not have hurt a fellow Death Eater directly, but if ever provoked enough, he knew how to discreetly seek his revenge without the opponent even knowing what had hit them. Currently, Dolohov had no wish to be one of them. And so, he ended up turning around, quietly occupying a seat a few feet away.

Seeing that Dolohov would remain silent for the rest of his time in the balcony, Marcus turned back to the ballroom. He was abruptly overjoyed to see that Cygnus had made his way to the woman. "_Viridis_," he whispered in confirmation.

And now to make his way to his room.

*

Upon reaching his room, Marcus took off his robe and placed it on a hook near the door. Stretching his neck, he made his way across the suite to the bar and took out two glasses, placing them on a table.

A glass for him. A glass for her.

He poured the girl enough whiskey for her to get comfortable around him but simultaneously kept in mind that he wanted her to be perfectly aware of herself. After all, he wanted to enjoy her in all her glory. Things would not be fun any other way.

After filling up the glasses, Marcus sat back and waited both patiently and quietly in anticipation of the woman. He even abstained from touching his own drink before she came to his room. He had had plenty to drink tonight, and though his level of tolerance for alcohol was uncommonly high, Marcus knew he was coming to a close also. He did not in any way want to risk losing his senses minutes before he had her.

_If_ he actually had her, Marcus suddenly thought in vexation.

Tapping his fingers on the armrest, Marcus looked at his watch and began to lose patience. He had been sitting in his room for quite some time now.

Where were those dimwitted idiots?

Pushing his glass away so he would not succumb to temptation, Marcus stood up and began to pace the room. It took all of three minutes for Cygnus to distract a girl while Falco poured two drops of _Balnoleum_ into her drink. A minute later, she would head to the bathroom. Two minutes later, she would step out and Cygnus and Falco would be waiting for her. It took about three minutes for them to convince the girl to head upstairs somehow and in another minute, they would be outside Marcus' room. That was ten minutes. At most, twelve.

Marcus had been waiting for about twenty now.

Unbuttoning the top two buttons of his shirt, Marcus growled in anger. He paid the idiots enough for them to do a simple job. Yet they were still completely incompetent, those fucking dense---

A tap on the door….finally.

His thoughts cut off midway, Marcus grinned roguishly as he turned to face the door. Running a hand through his hair, he mentally prepared himself to turn on the charm and he started walking towards the door, figuring out what compliment he should pay the lovely lady first.

Settling on her raven locks, Marcus eased his face into a sleek smile as he opened the door to greet his victim of the night.

"Welcome."

*

His eyes meeting Falco's, Marcus knitted his eyebrows together in confusion. He turned his head to the right, and only saw Cygnus. Confusion promptly transforming into anger, Marcus shoved Falco to the side and stepped into the hall. Seeing the woman nowhere around, he turned back around and centered a smoldering look on the two buffoons in front of him.

"Where is she?" Marcus asked quietly.

After a pregnant pause in which no one dared to speak, Marcus repeated himself. "Did you not hear me? I said where is she?"

Seeing that Falco was too petrified to even look up, Cygnus finally mustered up the courage to answer. "Sir, she said no."

Letting out a succinct laugh, laced with incredulity, Marcus stepped closed to Cygnus. "I'm sorry. I believe I heard you wrong Cygnus. What did you say?"

His breath coming in short huffs, Cygnus looked down at the floor, and squeaked the same response.

No longer able to contain his vehemence, Marcus took out his wand from his back pocket, and bellowed, '_Reducto!_'

Watching Cygnus' slam awkwardly into a wall gave Marcus some satisfaction and he took a deep breath, putting a soft smile on his face. He turned around to face Falco, who looked terrified, and pointed his wand in his face. "Now Falco. How about you tell me why you thought it was alright for you to disobey my orders and oblige with her wishes instead?"

When Falco's mouth opened in response, but no words came out, Marcus jabbed his wand between his eyes. "Tell me, you thick-headed ass!"

Realizing his fate would probably be worse than Cygnus if he did not speak, Falco began to sputter helplessly. "Sir, you yourself…you said not to hurt her if she protested. And…and, we tried….we tried to convince her but she kept on begging to be let go…so…keeping what you…what you told us…we followed your orders. We followed what you said. We didn't harm her. Like you said."

Raising his eyes to the ceiling in aggravation, Marcus growled in frustration. "You fucking morons! I said don't physically hurt her if she protested. I never said to actually….oh to hell with it! Tell me. Where is she?"

"I don't think she went back to the ballroom sir. I think she was about to leave…with her family," Falco replied, a bit more confidently, now that he was out of danger.

"Her family," Marcus repeated with a huff. "Her family." Too overcome with lust, combined with immeasurable anger and the copious consumption of alcohol, Marcus pushed back his hair, and headed down the hallway, to go down the stairs. There was no fucking way she would leave him like this. Not if he had anything to say about it.

He had just taken one step down when he stopped and went back up. Making direct eye contact with Falco, he sneered. "_Furnunculus_!"

Before he could watch the boils erupt on Falco's face and make a bloody mess, Marcus proceeded back down the stairs.

The blood may not have been his cup of tea, but the howls of pain definitely provided him with some contentment.

He was a Death Eater after all.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Sorry for the delay in updating. I was having some trouble with the Marcus character. Hope it turned out okay. Enjoy. :) Please do review! **

Seeing red, Marcus continued down the stairs in his search to find that…that beautiful…but incredibly stupid woman. She actually thought she had an option of saying no? Who did she think she was? Bloody hell, he didn't even know who she was but she sure as hell was in no position to say no.

He had just about made it to the foot of the stairs on the ground floor when suddenly several people tried to get his attention. His uncle, Alphard Black, grabbed his arm, and he heard Theodore Nott yelling out his name from some corner. Annoyed beyond measure, Marcus turned around to give a brief nod to Theodore, while simultaneously trying to escape from his uncle's grip.

"Marcus…" Alphard said, looking at Marcus, who was looking around impatiently. "I didn't know you were here. Where were you?"

"I'm just about to leave," Marcus explained with a tight forced smile. "If you'll excuse---"

"I know where he probably was," Theodore, who had somehow covered over thirty feet of distance, said with a knowing grin.

Marcus glared at Theodore, while Alphard pursed his lips, as he put two and two together. Glancing at Theodore, who understood the subtle signal, Alphard pulled Marcus to the side and tightened his grip on his nephew's arm. "These are all pureblood women," he hissed viciously.

Focusing his complete attention on Alphard for the first time, Marcus sighed. "I know Uncle Alphard. We've gone through this."

"Then why don't you understand Marcus?" Alphard continued, his hiss becoming a quiet whisper. " There are still a good number of Muggle witches left somewhere surely. Try checking Lord Voldemort's dungeons if you're so desperate. But for hell's sake, stop fucking pureblood women. You're leaving them untainted for no one!"

Taken aback by his uncle's language, which was usually concise and clean, Marcus remained quiet. What could he say anyway? He wasn't letting go of that girl tonight no matter what happened. Her face and body were too embedded in his mind to forget now. Her image was….Wait…that girl. His mind, which had drifted temporarily, was back on track, and he looked at Alphard again. "I'm sorry uncle. I'll keep that in mind from now on."

Hardly convinced, Alphard sighed and waved his hand to dismiss Marcus. "Of course."

With a solemn nod, Marcus turned around and he took a step forward to walk towards the lobby. Falco had said she didn't go back to the ballroom. But if she had been about to leave then, several minutes had already passed by. She was probably already gone. Damn it!

Looking around aimlessly, Marcus cursed his uncle and Nott for stopping him. If his uncle hadn't thought this was the best time for a lecture, he would probably be in the process of luring the girl to his room right now. Frustrated, Marcus let out a barely audible growl and tugged on his jet black hair. He had never seen her before today and what if she never came to another ball again? He would simply go mad with agonizing thoughts of her if he never saw---

His thoughts were cut off midway suddenly.

She was there. And Merlin help him, she looked much more beautiful up close.

Taking a deep breath, Marcus looked around and saw her aforementioned family was nowhere around. She was standing alone, holding on to a cloak, her eyes on her feet. Marcus' eyes involuntarily made their way down to her feet also, and could not help feeling a tingle go down his spine as he imagined her long velvety smooth legs flung over his shoulders carelessly. Merlin.

Making his way through a small crowd of people who were all pretty much drunk, Marcus reached the girl and forgot his anger towards her earlier. There was little room for anger when his imagination was filled with other thoughts. In minutes, his bedroom floor would be decorated with her black cloak…her lovely satin dress. Her soft hair would come undone after a few glorious kisses and adorn his pillow…

Engrossed in his thoughts, Marcus continued to walk towards her, until he was directly in front of her. Clearing his throat, Marcus tugged on his collar unconsciously and smiled. "Why, hello."

The woman looked up and her eyes widened in surprise for a brief moment before she regained her composure. Looking back down, she murmured hello.

Marcus leaned in closer and tried not to touch her as her scent intoxicated him. She smelled like everything fresh in the world. Spearmint leaves, crushed basil, fresh lilies. Like fresh clean blue waters. Closing his eyes for a brief moment, Marcus took in her refreshing scent and smiled softly. His proximity made the woman look up again, and this time she was not able to look away. Brown, Marcus noticed all of a sudden. Her eyes were brown. A soft chocolate brown framed with long, beautiful eyelashes.

Losing himself under her gaze, Marcus tilted his head to the side. "Bloody gorgeous. Such beautiful eyes." The girl said nothing but turned away. A vacant look entered her eyes and though she told herself to think of an escape route, she found herself thinking everything was useless. For the sake of others, she tried to care, but most of the time, she just wanted to give up. It seemed so much easier.

Not noticing her sudden detached composure after his compliment, Marcus' eyes skimmed her lips briefly and went back to her eyes. Quietly, he moved forward so he was whispering in her ear. "Walk with me." The vacant look gone, the girl looked back at Marcus and blinked in surprise. Encouraged, Marcus gave a charming grin. "Just a little stroll."

Vexed, the girl realized that this man probably knew who she was. He was toying with her now and he was going to drag her to Voldemort so that demon could murder her in some sickening way. This man was probably rejoicing at the moment at the idea of being showered with accolades amongst his fellow Death Eaters and rewarded by Voldemort himself. She had told herself that she was too tired and miserable to care but she could not give up so easily. Not after everything that had happened. Not after these last two brutal months. Not after she had escaped. Gathering determination, she told herself she could not risk being in his presence any longer. If she conceded to defeat because of her grief now, she would realize how stupid she had been in not escaping later. Clearing her throat, she took a step to the side, and tried to maneuver her way around him. "Excuse me."

Marcus gave a small chuckle and grabbed her arm. Shaking his head, Marcus pulled her slightly towards him. "I don't think so. We just met."

Trying to loosen his grip on her arm, the woman took a deep breath. This man did seem a bit drunk. Maybe she could still fool him into believing she was someone else. "Please, my aunt is probably waiting for me."

His grin all but vanished and Marcus turned to look at her face. "She can wait longer."

Looking around at the people in the lobby to see if anyone was staring at the two in wonder, the girl tried to find a way to escape. She did not even have her wand anymore. What could she possibly do? Seeing that everyone was utterly drunk and ignoring them, the girl looked up at Marcus with a pleading look. "Please," she whispered. She could not even shout out for help lest anyone else recognize her. She could not afford more attention to herself than what this man was giving her. She had already caught the attention of some other man who had sent two goons to get her and now here was this other disgustingly vain man.

Losing his patience, Marcus leaned in and tightened his grip on her arm. "Enough. If you want to save face, put your arm in mine and walk with me." When she did not take any step to do as he said, Marcus smiled sweetly. "I won't hesitate to make a scene and drag you by the hair out of this room. I don't mind a little sadomasochism every now and then."

Confused, she tried to figure out why he was worried about making a scene. Wasn't this the perfect situation? The mudblood from the Golden Trio in a room full of purebloods. What else could possibly add to their festivities if not knowing Hermione Granger was in their presence?

The man was still staring at her with a smoldering gaze and Hermione realized she had to do something instead of standing there helplessly. Seeing that her 'aunt', Andromeda Tonks, was nowhere around, she was forced to link arms with this man.

"Good girl," Marcus said, a devilish smirk appearing back on his face. He said nothing as he walked, and slowly lead her to a secluded corner where there was a closet of some sort behind some plants. Taking his wand out, he tapped it, saying _Alohamora_ and the lock clicked open. Opening the door, he led Hermione inside and closed it behind them.

She started to breathe heavily and he looked at her carefully. He let go of her and leaned back on a wall across from her. "I have never had to do this. Frankly, I don't enjoy running after someone like this." With a mocking sigh, Marcus shrugged. "I feel insulted. I'm quite good looking after all." Hearing this, Hermione's perplexity grew. What did his looks have to do with anything?

Walking towards her slowly, he continued. "It's enough that you told my men to leave you but now, you're trying to do the same with me?"

Her eyes lighting with understanding, Hermione realized it was he who had sent his men. She was filled with a mixture of emotions with this knowledge. There was relief that there was only one man who had taken notice of her. There was relief knowing he had not recognized her. Yet now she was filled with mortification knowing this man had intentions of sleeping with her. She had thought that the man would leave her after she had rejected his indirect advances earlier but apparently this was not the case.

Marcus took no notice of these emotions overtaking her face and continued to walk towards her until he had her backed to the wall. "But it's enough now darling. You are going to come up to my room and I will fuck you senseless until you are crying out my name over…and over again in ecstasy."

"I---"

"Shhh…" Marcus said placing his finger on her lips. "I don't think you understand. If you say no, I'll have you anyway. If you try to do anything to get away, I will not only make your life miserable. I will find every member of your family and make them wish you had never been born to them." Breathing softly, Marcus placed his palm on her shoulder and let it slide down her arm slowly. He drew invisible circles on her forearm with his finger and looked into her eyes once again. "This body…that you're obviously so proud of…I will destroy it so badly, you have no idea. Now love…you don't want any accidents, do you?" When Hermione said nothing, he continued. "Then forget someone like Marcus Flint having you. You won't even get those trolls I sent down earlier to look at you twice."

Her eyes beginning to brim with tears, Hermione said nothing. God. Marcus Flint. This was Marcus Flint. She had not even recognized him. It was true she had only encountered him once in her second year but he looked so different now. He had always been tall with the same black hair…but it was no longer coarse but rather soft looking…and more importantly, his teeth. Those repulsive teeth with black stains that had jutted out quite disgustingly before…and now, they were quite straight.

He had not recognized her though. Despite the fact that he had been there when Draco Malfoy had humiliated her and called her a mudblood for the first time and Ron had started to vomit slugs shortly afterwards, Marcus had obviously forgotten the memorable situation and her with it as well. It helped that it was almost a decade ago. It also helped that she had used some glamour spells to change her appearance today but having never really used them, there was only a difference in her hair color and the shape of her nose.

She had heard things about Marcus Flint during the battles and raids in the past few months but had never met him face to face. He was known to be quick and concise in his killings and Hermione suddenly wondered if she should tell him who she was so she would not have to go through anymore of this. A quick death sounded wonderful at the moment.

However, when she focused on his threats, she realized he had mentioned her family. Her appearance meant nothing to her. But her family. Almost everyone that was close to her had been ruthlessly murdered but there was still Andromeda Tonks and Teddy Lupin. After all the trouble that Andromeda had gone through for her, she just could not put them in any danger, especially not that sweet little boy. They were not her blood relatives but Marcus would harm them to no avail if he found out they had been harboring a 'mudblood', especially the supposedly dead Hermione Granger.

Bringing her back to reality, Marcus brought his hand back up to her bare shoulder. "Now will you come willingly or do I need to make use of these threats?"

Her tears falling freely for the first time, Hermione shook her head. "I can't…."

Marcus grabbed her hair and smiled ruthlessly. "Aw, sweetheart. You can't possibly want your family to be put in danger because of you."

Taking a deep breath, Hermione wiped her tears and looked down. Closing her eyes, she realized she had to agree. For Andromeda, for Teddy. For her own life. For the conviction that she had to continue to fight. She tried to say yes, but the words would not make their way out of her mouth so she resorted to nodding. Taking another deep breath, Hermione opened her eyes and looked pleadingly into Marcus' eyes. "But please. Not today."

"Conditions even after being threatened? How charming," Marcus said, anger seeping back into his voice. "What makes you think you have any say in this?"

The same vacant look coming back into her eyes from earlier on in the evening, Hermione blinked quickly several times to ensure no tears slipped out. "My fiancée. He died a month ago from today. I just can't…not today."

Marcus looked at her and moved his arm away from hers. Not sure what to say, he turned around and put his hands in his pockets. Slightly uncomfortable, he tugged on his hair again and cleared his throat. In memory of a fellow Death Eater who had possibly lost his life in the war, he supposed he would have to concede. "Tomorrow then. Cygnus will come to get you. No hotels, no balls. Flint Manor." After a pause, he turned around. "I don't even know your name. Or where I should send Cygnus."

Parting her lips slightly, Hermione was startled at how readily Marcus had agreed. As if there was a humane side to him. Looking into his face blankly, Hermione answered his question. "Serena...Serena Yaxley...I'll meet him outside of The Hog's Head."


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Thanks for reading. Enjoy. **

At six pm the following day, Hermione was standing in the alley besides Hog's Head. Covered up in a grey cloak, she leaned against a brick wall and took a deep breath. She had agreed to meet Flint's lackey at six and each minute that he took longer, she could not help but seriously think a hollow pit was searing through her stomach and growing inside of her slowly.

She had been thinking a lot in the past few hours actually. She thought she could leave Andromeda's house and escape. But then she was quickly reminded she had absolutely nowhere to go…and even if she did, they would find her.

The events that took place in the Battle of Hogwarts three months ago had overcame her and she was forlornly reminded of that formidable scene where Hagrid carried Harry's limp body to the rest of them, forced by Voldemort to place him on the grand steps of Hogwarts for everyone to see, mockingly reminding them of their defeat. When she saw Fred Weasley's dilapidated body from the explosion. When she saw a horrified George Weasley in the midst of mourning his brother, being blasted with an _Avada Kedavra_ by a Death Eater who took advantage of the situation. When Bellatrix Lestrange fired Nymphadora Tonks with the Cruciatus curse for a few moments before sending the _Avada Kedavra_ her way, leaving Teddy Lupin a young orphan. And Ron…Ronald Weasley.

The only man she had loved. She vividly remembered the moment when Ron looked at her after Harry and Luna Lovegood had went their way to the Ravenclaw Common Room. Harry had told them to go to the Chamber of Secrets to retrieve venom from the Basilisk's fangs but before they made their way down, Ron put his hand on her arm and stopped her. She looked at him questioningly, trying to convey with her eyes that they had no time for sentimentality and must go down as quickly as possible, but Ron shook his head, forcing Hermione to stop.

She remembered his eyes holding a myriad of emotions that varied from love to care to despondency to anxiety. She realized what he was going through because after all, she was going through the same. Without any words, he navigated his way up her arm to her cheek and pulled her gently towards him and kissed her. It was uncharacteristic of him to be so smooth in his actions and Hermione could not help but give a teary laugh at the entire situation. Eighteen year olds should not have been worrying about their lives like this. A kiss should not have felt so sweetly morbid. It was all so surreal.

He pulled back and caressed her cheek softly and smiled sadly. "I don't want this to be it."

Though there was little conviction in her words, Hermione shook her head vigorously and choked out her words. "It won't be."

Pulling her into a hug, Ron smiled into her hair. He loved this girl so much and this could very well be his last chance to tell her that. Though he had been thinking this for the last few weeks, even he was surprised afterwards that the words had come out. "Hermione…marry me."

Pulling away, Hermione looked into Ron's eyes and tried to figure out if he had truly said what she had just heard. "What?"

"I know…I know," Ron said, looking suddenly uncomfortable in his gangly frame. He looked away and threw his hand in the air and smiled softly. "I just…I love you."

Hermione brought her hands up and covered her eyes because her tears were coming out quite quickly and they showed no sign of stopping. "Ron…"

"I have for so long now Hermione but I just didn't know what to say or what to do but now…I know. At this moment, I just know. I know that I want to spend the rest of my life with you. And knowing that it may not be that long, I don't want to spend any time in 'what ifs' or 'maybes'. I want you to know how much I love you and spend our remaining time with your hand in my hand. I want to think that there is a future after this war and that this won't just be it. I…Gods Hermione, I just love you so much, and maybe you don't feel---"

"Oh shut up Ron," Hermione said, amidst her tears. "I love you too you idiot. And yes…yes I will marry you." And with that, she pulled him down by his shirt and kissed him.

Closing her eyes, Hermione remembered that feeling and could not help but smile, forgetting for a moment her current circumstances.

The two of them had survived the battle. Harry had died but Ron and Hermione had each other to comfort one another and continue to fight for a better world. Only without Harry, it wasn't the same. The Battle had ended and while Voldemort had spared all the purebloods from the defeated side, Ron and Hermione were still targets. Hermione was the 'mudblood'…the brains who had been behind Harry Potter's moves all these years. She was naturally a target. However, although Ron's family had been 'forgiven', which really meant enslaved, Voldemort had no plan of leaving Ron so easily.

They had to run away. For weeks, Hermione and Ron planned their escape to other countries where they would have peaceful place to stay so they could think of the next plan. They ran through the forests, wherever they could, through the British Isles, but no matter how hard they tried to get away, they were unsuccessful and the Death Eaters somehow always got one step closer. Always.

She was sleeping that night…that night when everything began to seem bleak and hopeless. Ron insisted on her sleeping and said he would protect them. But when his agonizing screams woke her up, she saw that he had been unsuccessful. She had always been courageous in the face of danger but when she saw Ron's writhing form, Hermione could do nothing but watch in horror. The delight with which they sent their spells and laughed at a young man of eighteen suffering was so incredibly sickening that Hermione had been forced to wonder whether these were truly humans. How could anybody be so heartless?

When Rodolphus Lestrange caught sight of her, Hermione eyes widened and she finally attempted to compose herself and look for her wand. Grasping it from her back pocket, she stumbled backwards and shot any spell she could think of at the group that was coming towards her after they had murdered Ron. _Expelliarmus, Incarcerous, Incendio, Petrifucus Totalus_! Anything to keep them away. However, Hermione realized the uselessness of her spells when she heard Amycus and Alecto Carrow laughing at her inability to do anything except stun one Death Eater. It was then that she prepared to die.

This was going to be it.

And then, they stopped. They looked at her in terror and began to take steps back and Hermione became truly confused. She had finally managed to disarm Antonin Dolohov but what was that compared to everything else that they were capable of?

It was then that she realized that their eyes were no longer on her but behind her. Rather above her. She slowly turned around and recognized what had made the others shirk back in fright. Two Hebridean Black dragons were towering over them and preparing to lunge at the intruders. Their bright purple eyes glowering, they let out a shrieking roar together which caused everyone to back away in startled fear. The larger dragon began to rustle its spiked tail and it flew closer to Lestrange, beating it in his face with another roar, causing Lestrange to howl in pain.

Hermione stepped back as she saw the other dragon looking directly at her and huffing its chest, preparing to breathe fire into her face. The last thing she heard before she feigned unconsciousness was Dolohov yelling at the others to take Ron's body and tell Lord Voldemort that the mudblood's body had been incinerated by dragon fire. After all, there was no way she was going to survive the wrath of two Hebridean Black dragons.

They had absolutely no clue that she had.

They also had no idea that Hebridean Black dragons were hostile when it came to their territory but they only ate animals. They had only meant to scare everyone off but human meat was in no way delectable to them.

Hermione of course knew that seeing her powerless and presumably dead, the dragons would do nothing but go back to their den. It became another moment out of countless others where Hermione thanked books and the valuable information they always provided her with.

After several minutes of lying on her side, Hermione sensed the dragons were gone and she finally got up and saw the wreckage around her. Trees had been burnt down and smoke was billowing around her. But most importantly…Ron was gone. They had taken his corpse with them for Voldemort and Hermione was hit with the sudden realization she would never ever see him again. It was then when Hermione let herself go and her cries filled the air as she realized how futile everything was. What in bloody hell could she do alone? How could she avenge the memories of her best friends against hundreds when she was alone? She had never cried as much as she did that day and her tears were refreshed each time she thought of what that demon would do to Ron's body. The sacrilegious methods in which he would disrespect Ron's memory, gloating in delight while doing it.

For three days, Hermione laid down on the grass, and did absolutely nothing. For once, she had no plan. She had no ideas. She had no secret weapon of knowledge that would help anyone. She had nothing.

However, everything that made Hermione herself returned. The young woman who absolutely abhorred the feeling of having no ambition and losing got back up and though she still had no plan, she was not going to die of starvation and depression lying on damp dirt. There were others left. Many had died but there were some still left! Molly, Charlie, Percy, and Ginny Weasley…Neville Longbottom…Luna Lovegood…Lee Jordan…Katie Bell…Seamus Finnigan… Hannah Abbott…Parvati Patil…Madame Pomfrey…Professor Slughorn….Professor Flitwick…Professor Sprout….Andromeda Tonks.

As Hermione thought of each person who was still alive, her strength grew and she gathered the courage to get back up. It might take her months, or perhaps more reasonably years, to defeat Voldemort but there was no way she would not give up. She refused to give up.

Blinking back her tears in the current day, Hermione looked around her and realized how unsuccessful she had been so far. It had been three months and all she had been able to do was send a message through Andromeda to the remaining Weasley family and Neville that she was still alive. Besides that, she just stayed in the Tonks basement, forbidden to practice any magic besides simple domestic spells, lest anyone neighboring them get suspicious and report the Tonk household to Lord Voldemort.

She was satisfied staying in the discomfort of the basement for as long as she needed but it was last week when Hermione was notified that all the homes were being searched randomly in the magical community outside Ottery St. Catchpole while a ball was being held at the other side of the town. Andromeda had found out the secret information through a not so bright relative and had immediately devised a plan to get Hermione out of the house and to the ball as her deceased son-in-law's pureblood relative.

It was that same ball which had landed Hermione in her current situation. Being hauled to Marcus Flint's manor so he could have his way with her however he pleased.

Shuddering at the thought of his hands on her, Hermione looked at her watch again and realized it was 6:13 pm. She was overcome with some hope that perhaps somehow Flint had realized how plain she was and decided not to sleep with her after all.

With a deep breath, Hermione stepped out of the alley and looked around. Could she leave? She had waited and nobody had showed up. He had threatened to find and hurt her family if she disobeyed him but she hadn't and so she could not be held accountable. Or maybe his minions were just late and she would be at fault? Pulling at her hair lightly, Hermione tried to make a decision. However, as she was leaning towards leaving, she saw that she did not have to.

Cygnus was walking towards the pub. His eyes flitting over to her figure. Leering in satisfaction.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Sorry for the late update. Lots of annoying school work. Lol. Thanks for reading. Hope you enjoy the chapter. **

"Wear this."

Catching a dark green piece of clothing in her hands, Hermione looked up questioningly.

"Mr. Flint wants you to wear it," Cygnus explained with an uninterested look. "He's coming back soon."

Unfolding the cloth to reveal it was a slip, Hermione shook her head vigorously. "I'm not going to wear---"

However, before she could finish her sentence, the door was slammed shut and Hermione was left alone. She looked down at the slip and shook her head again. He was dressing her up to his liking now too? Did he think he was her master?

Fighting back tears, she threw the cloth to the side in disgust and let out a soft anguished cry.

She had convinced herself that she would go along and sleep with Marcus Flint for the sake of Andromeda and Teddy but now that the time was here, she was repulsed by having to sleep with a Death Eater. Had she been delusional earlier in thinking she could do this? Lose her dignity to a Death Eater? A man from the same group of people that had taken her loved ones away from her?

The realization hitting her harder than ever, Hermione wiped her face with her cloak and looked around. She could not do this. There was absolutely no way she was going to sleep with a man who believed in killing innocent people. A man who's friends had been responsible for killing Ron and Harry. A man who himself had blood on his hands. She had been insane all this time in thinking she could do this. There was no way she would give her body to some twisted and crazed beast.

Taking a deep breath, Hermione looked around frantically and ran towards the biggest window she saw to the far left of the room. She would escape. She would leave this horrid man's house somehow. Her hands shaking in fear, Hermione took a deep breath before she continued.

I will escape. I will escape. Chanting this over and over in her head, Hermione calmed down enough to focus on the window before her. She turned around for a brief second to make sure the door to the room was definitely closed before she took another deep, yet shaky, breath and nodded to herself with some confidence.

She could do this.

Fidgeting with the locks on the window until they finally clicked open, Hermione allowed an icy breeze inside the room. She ignored the burn on her cheeks and looked down to figure out realistically whether it would be actually possible to escape.

She was three floors up. She could do this, she told herself again. She was small enough to fit through the window but the problem was with how she would land and where she would go if she did get down there sound and safely. Lamenting over the fact that her wand was not allowed to be used unless under the protection wards of Andromeda's house, Hermione bit her lip and groaned. Deciding she had to take a shot regardless of the consequences before she was too late, Hermione took off her cloak and began to hoist herself on to the ledge.

She obviously would not go back to Andromeda's house. She would go somewhere else to keep them safe. She could go to ----

"I haven't even gotten a chance to play host to you Miss Yaxley. You can't leave just yet."

Stopping in her tracks, Hermione closed her eyes at the sound of the familiar smooth voice.

God no.

There was no way she could misplace Marcus Flint's voice after his repellant behavior yesterday. Her heart thumping uncontrollably against her chest, Hermione's ears began to ring abruptly. Everything began to seem surreal and Hermione covered her mouth quickly as she began to feel nauseated with fear.

He would rape her brutally now. He would rape her and then probably murder her as an afterthought because of her insolence. Even his idea that she was a pureblood would not spare her. This was the second time she had affronted him and Marcus Flint hardly seemed forgiving.

Feeling his breath on the nape of her neck, Hermione opened her eyes but was still too frightened to turn around. For several agonizing moments, she waited for him to do something. Slap her perhaps or send a painful curse her way.

Yet he did nothing.

With a deep sigh, Marcus turned back around and walked over to his bed. Sitting down, he took off his cloak. After he was done, he took his wand and closed the window with a quick swish, locking it once again with a sharp click which made Hermione flinch from fear.

He then took off his shoes and waited for her to turn around. When she did and said nothing, he leaned back on his bed and propped himself on his elbows. He eyed her slender body and as he made his way down to her shapely curves, he felt his pants tighten and he closed his eyes for a moment, trying to regain his composure. Instead, he was met with visions of her unearthly beauty. Her dark wavy hair that cascaded like a waterfall down her back. Her pale shoulders. Her natural rose blush. Her lightly freckled nose. Her luscious lips which he could almost taste. And her strangely piercing brown eyes.

On anyone else, those brown eyes would have looked ordinary but on her…they somehow made him want to succumb to her every demand, answer her every question.

But she wouldn't let him. She insisted on refusing his advances.

His lust was suddenly overshadowed by his anger and he opened his eyes to see her still standing there, in the same position, still as a statue only for her shoulders to move with every breath she took.

He suddenly wished he did not want her so badly. He felt foolish for wanting a girl who clearly did not want him. It had never bothered Marcus before but this time, he was humiliated and incensed at this outright insult. His anger increased when he saw the slip he had asked her to wear crumpled carelessly at the foot of his bed.

He finally stood up and decided enough was enough. He was no longer going to wait to quench the thirst of his desires. Twenty something hours had been enough. She was not going to control him like some puppet and attack his dignity any longer. He had tried being nice but apparently she liked things differently.

Walking up to her, he turned her around and pushed her back until she was leaning against the window. She avoided his gaze and looked down at the floor instead, squirming slightly so he would loosen his grip on her. Incensed, Marcus tightened his grip instead and moved closer to her face. When her lip quivered in response, Marcus lost focus for a moment before he shook his head slightly. He would not treat her with any tenderness any more. He pulled her hair back so she was looking directly at him and he scowled. Her eyes. Her lovely tear-stained eyes were staring back at him and he realized suddenly why he was so unusually attracted to her.

Everything about her was perfect.

He craved purity with everything and she was purity personified.

Looking at her intently, Marcus realized he honestly had no wish to hurt her or bruise her flawless body in any way. She was like a glass figurine…one that he would prize as part of his collection as being the most beautiful and simply the best. If she would only let him.

His grip softening, he tilted his head slightly to the side. "Why do you insist on making things difficult?"

Hermione said nothing in return but lowered her eyes.

"I'm a fairly nice man," Marcus said with an encouraging grin, trying to make this woman…Serena…soften a bit.

Hearing the absurdity of the statement, Hermione looked back up to meet his eyes and scoffed in a moment of defiance before realizing how stupid it was.

Marcus' own eyes became icy at her reaction and his grip on her hair tightened again. "Fine. If that's the way you're going to be, so be it. It makes no difference. I think you're under some sort of illusion that your behavior will deject me from having you but frankly, I don't give a bloody fuck." Moving his hand down to her forearm, Marcus turned around and angrily dragged Hermione across the room to his bed, throwing her face down on to the mattress.

In a swift movement, he loosened his shirt buttons and pushed Hermione toward the head of the bed, putting his hands on the hem of her shirt without a word. With a soft grunt, he ripped her shirt off and feasted his eyes upon her soft pale stomach and her simple black bra.

He had every intention to keep her from finding out from what she was doing to him but before he could help himself, he touched her stomach and murmured, "Beautiful."

Marcus watched her shivering under his gaze and trying to get her shirt back to cover herself, but he took Hermione's hands in his own and pulled her towards him.

Hermione felt her heart thumping out of her chest and she tried to push back Marcus but he was too strong for her, which resulted in her being pinned underneath him, with no space to move. She continued to struggle regardless, trying to kick him somehow but it was impossible and she found herself losing energy within seconds, as Marcus's hands dug painfully into her skin. "Let—go of me!"

Frustrated, Marcus stilled her and bent forward to look into her face. "You really don't care about your family, do you? Your future? I could ruin your reputation in our wonderful pureblood society within seconds."

Staring defiantly at Marcus, Hermione responded with as much boldness she could muster. "I don't give a damn what anyone thinks about me. As for my family, you have no idea who----"

Laughing heartily with amusement, Marcus looked at the piece of work underneath him. Such a feminine frame, so much rebellion. "Oh darling. I don't get into anything without knowing everything. You're that dead werewolf's relative. Andromeda Tonks has you staying over at her house." Watching Hermione's eyes widen in surprise at his revelation, Marcus lowered his gaze to her lips. "Those guards of mine aren't completely useless. Now that that's clear, why don't we get on to business?"

Feeling she was trapped beyond rescue, Hermione turned her face to the side and became motionless. She could not fight Marcus any longer. Not after she knew that he knew about Andromeda. All struggle would be futile. All screams would go unheard.

She closed her eyes and felt her tears making their way down her cheeks, as she felt Marcus' warm breath on her neck. Her own breathing became heavy as she waited for the inevitable.

Satisfied at her compliant behavior, Marcus' mouth lingered over Hermione's neck for a brief moment. The same fresh scent enrapturing his senses, he bent forward and kissed her neck softly. He longed for some gratification after a day's worth of waiting. However, after he kissed her again, he paused as he felt her body tighten underneath him. His gaze shifted to her face and he looked at her with a strange longing. "Look at me Serena." Her silence riling him, Marcus' repeated himself. "Serena, look at me." His jaw clenching, Marcus put his hand on Hermione's chin and forced her to look at him. However, when Hermione did open her eyes, she avoided Marcus' face but rather stared at the ivory ceiling with a blank face.

"Can't you hear me? I said look at me!" Moving his body off of her, Marcus got off the bed and took Hermione's arms into his hands and pulled her off the bed so she was standing in front of him. "What the hell do you want? Why are you being so fucking difficult?"

Getting Hermione's maddening response of silence, he threw her on to the floor in aggravation and turned around. Running his fingers through his hair, Marcus realized he had never raped anyone. Surely, he had to bribe a certain amount of girls but they always came around on their own. But this woman…she would not even give him a chance. He wanted her so badly since yesterday that he had been going insane for this moment but despite that, he could not rape her. Especially not _her_ out of all the girls he had slept with. He would never be able to get her damn eyes out of his mind if he did.

"Fuck!" Kicking the taunting slip to the side, Marcus growled loudly and tried to take a deep breath. When he felt his anger subside considerably, Marcus picked up his cloak and walked to the doors of his room swiftly before pausing. In a quiet voice, he spoke to her without turning to look at her. "If you had just listened, you would have been going home in an hour. Now sit here like a fool and wait in agony because God knows, you're not going to leave before I get what I want the way I want. No matter how long it takes." With a sneer, he turned to look at her. "Good night."


End file.
